


From iron, our blood is drawn.

by orphan_account



Series: AH GoT [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Abduction, Alternate Universe - Game of Thrones Fusion, Blood and Gore, But this is why we can't have nice things, Character Death, F/M, Game of Thrones-esque, I have no idea what made me want to do this, Psychological Torture, THIS IS A THING, Violence, oh boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 11:01:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3485831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their swords clashed with a loud clang that reverberated in her ears, thrumming in ripples through the still pool of air around them; a shower of sparks flooded down in a massive spray. The girl tried desperately to cry out for her lover, but the words caught in her throat, choking her with their attempted projectile force. They died on her tongue as his blood decorated the snow, dripping scarlet marring the pure ivory color of the freshly fallen flakes, the garbled sound of him choking on his own lifeblood hanging heavily in the atmosphere. The only thing that escaped her now was a piercing scream, shaking as she fell to her knees. He collapsed in front of her very eyes, and all she got was a sneer from the man who had wrecked him, words spat to her like venom. "You can go," he growled, face radiant from his victory, the slight dappling of blood coloring his face in a line. "Send your mother my regards."</p>
            </blockquote>





	From iron, our blood is drawn.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [calimaslinson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/calimaslinson/gifts).



> Happy day of probably your entire fictional family dying, Cali.
> 
> And to the rest of you: enjoy.

_"Faster," he urged her, flicking the reins of his own horse and forcing the gallop it lumbered along in to pick up in pace. "We have to get out of here, now."_

_"But Ray, I'm scared," she admitted in a trembling voice, biting down on her lower lip so as to keep it from quivering. The icy air nipped at her bare skin, licking at her cheekbones with tendrils of coldness that felt sharp as knives. The tears that had escaped her clear blue-green eyes had frozen to the rosy hues of her flushed cheeks; the trails they left in their wake glistened in the filtered sunlight pouring through the trees like crystalline waterfalls._

_"We all are, little dove. But we must go."  He forced her to ride ahead of his own horse, her cream-colored stallion practically tripping over itself as it went faster and faster. "You can't help him if you're a prisoner or, worse, dead."_

_She bowed her head. He was right. For him, she had to keep moving._

* * *

 

The birds had barely started chirping outside, their melodies soft and harmonious, when the doors to her bedchambers were flung open. No light dared to flood in and illuminate the room, caught behind and obscured by the dark red, dense velvet of her curtains. That was, until Ray came in. His small, slender fingers pulled back the curtains, the pale light pouring in casting a reddish glow over his features. Aloud, he mused, "The skies are red this morning, sister. Maester Luwin warned me that it's a bad omen." Crossing back over the threshold of his sister's room, he all but collapsed onto the foot of her bed, causing her to truly rouse herself from her point of barely there consciousness back to the world of the living. "And then he immediately told me to leave, Ray, you always make such a bloody mess of your breakfast and never eat. Did you have to get your porridge on Chris' work?"  

A scowl prominent on Cali's features, delicately arched brows furrowing over her icy, narrowed eyes, she rose up from her position splayed out across the width of the mattress. Bringing the blankets up to cover herself- though she was clothed well enough, her dressing gown was thin as seven hells, and it was chilly in her quarters this morning- she hissed, "Do you not know how to knock, Ray?!" Drawing the thick comforter around herself, she stood and walked over to her vanity, plopping down onto the seat in front of it and staring at herself in the mirror. Her auburn locks, usually neatly styled and wavy, were a disheveled heap upon her head, knotted in an inadvertently formed pile. Lowering one hand from where it had come to rest absentmindedly on her bust, she wrapped her fingers around her brush, taking it up from where it rested on the mahogany surface of her table and taking it through her hair carefully. In an try at appealing to her brother's insatiable, uncanny ability to talk and talk and talk, she questioned him drearily, "Tell me, Ray, what do they say about red skies in the morning?" 

"They say that they are the harbingers of bad news," he replied, his lilting voice thicker as he crossed his arms behind his head and laid on them. The pad of his thumb brushed over the tiny curls at the nape of his neck, the ones that laid there like the newest, freshest down on a baby bird. "That nothing good can come of the times in front of us." 

" **Shut up**." Flinging her brush at her brother's face, Cali couldn't help but snap at him. Her father, eldest brother, and her lover were out beyond the walls of Winterfell, beyond her watchful eyes. They were fighting a war that they hoped to win, and little omens like that were enough to leave her a bit on edge. "Don't speak like that, you arse. I.." She trailed off, unsure of where she could go with her statement. How could she explain her irrational fears that maybe, the gods (old or new, she didn't know anymore) were trying to warn them of impending doom.

With a sharp yelp, Ray hurried to raise a pillow in front of his face, the brush colliding with it just a second later. "HEY!" He tossed it aside, watching it topple onto the floor before meeting his little sister's eyes. "What is your  **problem** , Cali?" Straightening up from his nonchalant position, he scanned the younger girl's eyes, her tense expression, for any sign of what she was feeling. And what he saw reflected back into his dark, melting chocolate brown eyes was fear within her own. "You.." Standing up, he went to her side, his own face softening as he knelt beside his sister's seat. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pulled her head down onto his shoulder with his free hand. Stroking her hair gently, he asked in a voice thin as a whisper, "You're scared, aren't you?"  ** _  
_**

The rigidity of her body melted away as she conformed to the taller, leaner frame of her brother. Burying her face against the hot skin of the crook of his neck, she choked out past her shell pink lips, "How could I not be? Father is out there.. Joel.. Michael.. Gavin.." Her throat closed up, constricting painfully as she uttered the name of her betrothed. Swallowing hard past the obstruction that seemed to grow and block her airway, she shook her head furiously and snaked her arms around Ray, pulling him in for a tight hug. "Do you think they'll make it back okay, Ray?" 

"They'll make it," he murmured into her hair, hand migrating southwards to her back, rubbing vertical lines into her skin and tracing patterns with his fleshy fingertips. "They will." 

"How do you know?! Anything can happen. What if they are attacked, what if-"

"You'll worry yourself sick if you keep that up, Cali. Stop it. They'll make it. They always do."

* * *

 

They never made it back. At least, Gavin and his portion of the army didn't. The men were last seen crossing the drawbridge owned by the Tully house, walking away from a victory against the Lannisters in the South. Cali's father, Lord Stark, had trusted them all to make it back on their own. Nobody was really sure what had happened at the camp that night, but they were aware of the fact that a surprise ambush just outside of it in the night had woken them all up. Blood was shed, heads were taken, along with several of Stark's most able-bodied men. They were shackled and dragged off into the night, with the fate of the Lord's most treasured men truly unknown after that. The eldest Stark boy was marched away, along with Gavin, into the vast night; snow crunched beneath their dragging feet as they were taken into the abysmal darkness beyond the camp. Joel had an obvious limp as he hobbled away, forced by the Kingslayer himself back onto his feet whenever he stumbled. Joel was one of the only men known who could keep up with him, swing for swing, parry for parry. So Jaime Lannister was more than gloating over the fact that he could drag not only him away, but the betrothed of his enemy's daughter.

Ray was the one to retrieve the message from the raven, the messenger bird having arrived too late at night for anyone but him, the notoriously nocturnal little devil, to be awake. When he unraveled it and read it under his breath, words muttered incoherently, eyes but feline-like slits in the dark, it took a while for the words to sink in. But when they did, he swung around and sprinted for his life. He raced down the halls of the castle, the pounding of his feet echoing in the still darkness, yet still not enough to drown out the frantic hammering of his heart against his breastbone. Slamming into the door of his mother and father's chambers, he babbled frantically, "Mother, Mother, you have to wake up. Please wake up." As he frantically explained the situation to the sleep-rumpled Lady Stark, Cali ran in from her own chambers. She knew that something was wrong. Something had to have been. Ravens didn't come at this hour unless they had something urgent to say.

"What's wrong?" she inquired breathlessly, hair obscuring her already poorer-than-average vision. Hitching up the bottom hem of the skirt of her nightgown, she rushed to her mother's bedside. "What did the raven have?"

"Your father.." she began tremulously, unable to meet Cali's desperate eyes. "..has sent a message. His camp was ambushed in the middle of the night. Your brother Joel is gone. And Gavin.."

"What **of** Gavin?"

 

"He has been taken hostage. I am sorry, my dear, sweet girl."    

Her mother opened her arms, offering her daughter a place to fling herself into and be held, but Cali staggered back a few steps like the words had struck her directly in the face. Hostage. Hostage. The Lannisters always repaid their debts, and they would certainly feel like they owed something to the Starks. They owed the family the boys' heads on spikes out front of King's Landing. To serve as a warning to anyone who attempted to rebel against them. A palm pressed over her heart that seemed to skip a few beats, she asked softly, weakly, "Is there anything that can be done?" 

"For now?" Her mother dismissed the notion of taking action with the briefest, disapproving shake of her head. "Your father will be strategizing and forming a plan to get the boys back. There is nothing that we can do but wait it out and pray to the old and new gods, hoping that they will be merci-" 

"We're going to sit here on our hands and do  **nothing**?!" The girl stared at her mother, the woman whom she was supposed to respect and love like she had grown two other heads by saying the very words she had stated. Her voice shook, as did her head in disbelief. "No. I will not sit here and do absolutely nothing as my brothers and my soon-to-be-husband rot in some cell that the Lannisters have put together. All those men out there need us, and I will not let them down." And with that, she whipped around on her heel and stormed off from the room. She heard her mother's cries echo behind her, but she didn't care. She went to her closet and grabbed the warmest clothes she could find, bundling herself up before yanking on her boots. Lacing them up haphazardly, Cali went to exit the castle, but couldn't ignore the voice behind her now. 

Ray stumbled over the end of his cloak that he had yet to fully fasten on, having chased after her when she left. "If you're going to go rescue them, I'm going, too." His mouth was set in a straight, grim line of determination. She knew that when he had that glint in his eyes, that look on his face, there was no telling Ray to stay behind. When he wanted to assist her, he would.

Letting out a sharp huff of breath, Cali nodded curtly and threw open the front door to their abode. Pointing to the stables, she mouthed the words, "That way," not wanting anyone that wasn't meant to know of their plans to overhear. Ray mirrored her action and darted deftly along, ducking behind stacks of crates and sacks of potatoes and onions. With his ebony black curls and direwolf pelt cape, he blended into the night like he was meant to be there. He put their horses' tack on before beckoning his sister forward, gripping tightly onto the reins of her ivory colored stallion and his own dappled one. Cali followed his path, her own movements a little less graceful, but almost equal nonetheless. She quickly mounted his horse, which Ray did to his own a moment later. 

Together, they left and rode out into the night, managing to sneak past the gate between changes of the night guardsmen. Cali's gloved fists were shaking with anticipation, nerves gnawing hungrily in her stomach, knotted into a tight, tense ball. But beside her, Ray seemed.. calm. At ease. As if he were born to go into battle and rescue all these men all along. And she supposed that, in a way, he had been. He was to follow Joel's footsteps into the lines of duty, fighting behind his father, the Siege Lord of the North. He had been trained in swordfighting, knew how to defend himself. Cali wasn't quite as trained as he was, but had a keen enough eye and a deadly shot with a bow and arrow. So she had snagged one of the practice bows and a quiver of arrows, and Ray had brought the sword that Joel had had forged for him when he grew to be not quite as much of a pint-sized warrior, when he started to fill out.

For a while, the only noise that could be heard was the galloping of their horses in synchronization, the faintest howls of the wind, the brushing of branches in the dense forest blowing in the breeze. They rode off south, hoping to skip over their father's encampment and make it to the Lannisters, wherever they might be. Ray had caught a glimpse of his father's map before they had set out weeks ago, so he had a general idea of the places they could be. So he rode off in front, Cali trailing right behind him. 

Ray glanced at his sister over his shoulder, jaw clenched, gritting his teeth. "Faster," he urged her, flicking the reins of his own horse and forcing the gallop it lumbered along in to pick up in pace. "We have to get out of here, now."

"But Ray, I'm scared," she admitted in a trembling voice, biting down on her lower lip so as to keep it from quivering. The icy air nipped at her bare skin, licking at her cheekbones with tendrils of coldness that felt sharp as knives. The tears that had escaped her clear blue-green eyes had frozen to the rosy hues of her flushed cheeks; the trails they left in their wake glistened in the filtered sunlight pouring through the trees like crystalline waterfalls. 

"We all are, little dove. But we must go."  He forced her to ride ahead of his own horse, her cream-colored stallion practically tripping over itself as it went faster and faster. "You can't help him if you're a prisoner or, worse, dead."

She bowed her head. He was right. For him, she had to keep moving _._

And keep moving, they did. Dawn had just started to break over the horizon when they reached the very outskirts of the wood, where it ended and the Lannister camp began. It was a nice place for the camp if you didn't know what you were looking for. Overall, the place was almost too quiet. Nobody stirred in the night. Nobody stayed up and got rowdy, had a bit too much to drink. Cali and Ray dismounted their horses when they still had space to, tying them up to a tree where they figured they wouldn't be spotted. A lifetime of sneaking around the castle finally came in handy as they crept around on the balls of their feet, finding the softest areas to step on the earth, avoiding dead branches and piles of leaves that were partially visible beneath the snow.

The cells weren't that hard to spot as they edged along the side of the camp, the tall, hastily-made wooden structures sticking out like sore thumbs amongst the sea of crimson and gold tents and banners. Nearly on all fours now, Cali scrambled to get to her men, to get to her brother and Gavin. Ray stayed hot on her heels, growling almost inaudibly, "Slow the bloody hell down, we're safe for now."  _  
_

"Don't speak too soon, little lord." That voice. That cockiness, that sneer that you could hear, the belittling tone dripping with acid. Cali straightened back up onto her feet and rounded the corner, past the last tent, only to find Jaime Lannister with his beloved sword right up against her oldest brother's neck. 

Joel stared at her, bewildered, appearing like a wild animal caught in a snare. He wasn't used to being defeated. He wasn't used to the aspect of having to be submissive. The blade had a dangerously beautiful glare shining off of it in the dim morning light, sparkling like a crackling fire, reflecting the palest of white glows onto the delicate skin near his throat. His chest was heaving with his obvious panic, the anxiety making it hard for him to draw a proper breath. But still, he pleaded with Cali, "Don't listen to him, whatever you do. If you get the chance to run, do. Tell Mother-"

Jaime clicked his tongue in distaste, bringing the sharp surface closer to the boy's neck. He flinched, and the smallest beads of blood were drawn from the nick given to him by the sword. "Ah, ah, not so fast," he warned, eyebrows raised. It was all a game to him, evident in the playfulness in his sharp features as he spoke on. "Too much talking, not enough blood. Who says that they'll make it back to Winterfell?" 

"Do not harm them, Kingslayer," Joel begged, the familiar warmth of his own woody brown eyes disappearing as his eyes slipped shut. Face contorted in pain, the slightest grimace, he said words that would ring through the air for a good minute before being truly heard:

"Kill me. Not them. Let them go." 

"Don't mind if I do." The eldest Lannister brother broke the silence and forced the Stark boy down onto his hands and knees, bracing his head on a crate with his foot as he used both hands to unsheathe his sword. 

"JOEL,  **NO**." Ray felt his knees weaken as he dropped onto one, unable to keep himself upright. His older brother was the one he always looked up to, the one that he desired to grow up and be just like. "Please.." 

"Do not fret, young one," Joel said softly, his voice strained as Jaime raised his sword. "I'll be safe with the gods. Tell Mother I love her. And I love you all, too."

Jaime lowered his sword for a brief moment, resting a hand on his hip as he tilted his head to the side. "Oh, how touching," he remarked offhandedly before putting his hand back on the hilt of his sword, raising it high above his head, and driving it down through Joel's exposed neck. Or, halfway through, rather. The battle the day before had caused it to grow the slightest bit duller, so it took two swings to truly sever his head from his body. A bit disappointed, he lamented, "Not clean.. For shame." 

Ray's other leg gave out on him, and he couldn't tear his gaze away from the blood gushing from the stump on which his brother's head had resided. Body wracked with sobs, wretches, he lasted not even fifteen seconds before his stomach contents were evacuated from his mouth. He vomited, turned every breath into a heartwrenching, cacophonous wail. It would never make sense in his head how Jaime could be so heartless, so cruel, and take away a life without a second thought. Not like that.   

Cali couldn't dare look at her brother's head as it rolled across the earth now soaking up his blood like rainwater, absorbing it, staining the dirt red. She instead drew an arrow and raised her bow, knocking the former on the latter and pulling it back tight. Aiming it at the center of the Kingslayer's forehead, she said tremulously, "Let them go, Ser Lannister, or I will kill you where you stand."  

"You wish it was that simple, my lady." With a grab and tug, he hauled Gavin up onto his feet. The young man was visibly shaken by all that had happened and, likely, things that had occurred over the span of the night. His face was shadowy with bruising, spiderwebs of broken capillaries decorating his cheek. He simply stepped along as Jaime commanded, standing between the drawn bow and him. "If you want to get to me, you'll have to get through him."

"No.." Cali dropped her bow, her right hand losing its grip on the arrow and her left the curve of the weapon. They both fell silently to the ground as she stared at her promised husband. He blinked numbly back at her, like he wasn't even there, lost to the shadows of death already. "Gavin? My love? Are you injured?" 

"Oh, he's fine! Aren't you, old chap?" Jaime patted his shoulder, but it was like he was frozen in time. Stuck with one complacent look on his face, his normally multi-hued, multi-faceted eyes just now a dull, dying gray. When he received no reply from Gavin, the knight simply made a face and went on. "Sure, maybe he had a bit of a rough time, watching most- if not all of- his comrades be tortured before his very eyes because of his failure. But that's simply a minor detail!" 

"Let him go. Please."

Jaime sighed dramatically, giving his light sapphire eyes a quick roll. "By the gods, you Starks never know how to have any fun, do you?" he mused before lighting up excitedly. "I know. I can give you a fair trial of sorts. If Gavin can beat me in a swordfight, you will all be allowed to go. And I will tell my father that I was bested." 

Cali hesitated, looking from Ray and Gavin to the rest of the men around. Gavin was a good fighter, sure. But the only one who seemed to even stand a chance against Jaime was now a headless corpse that was steadily growing colder. What was she supposed to do? Agree to the arrangement and risk not only the lives of her father's men, but the life of the man that she was supposed to spend the rest of her life with? 

Before the girl could even offer an answer, Gavin replied monotonously, "We don't fight 'ere, Kingslayer. In the woods. Nobody will question what's happening there. And if I lose, you can say that I tried to escape, but you valiantly caught me when the guards failed." 

"I knew I liked you for a reason," the questioning man said with a large, dazzling beam. 

The trek to the forest was simple, but Cali noted that Gavin walked with a delay, much like a limp; he lingered for too long on his left foot, was too quick on his right, but he didn't seem to be in any pain. Maybe it was him playing it off to be seen as stronger in front of her, maybe it was a subconscious thing. But he didn't look to be in the best of conditions, and she didn't want him pit up against Jaime. By now, though, they were far too deep in the plan to back out. 

And then they were at it. Gavin was tossed a sword and told to ready himself. They circled around languidly, both men seeming to be on their best guards. When Jaime dove, he went in for a strike. Their swords clashed with a loud clang that reverberated in her ears, thrumming in ripples through the still pool of air around them; a shower of sparks flooded down in a massive spray. The girl tried desperately to cry out for her lover, but the words caught in her throat, choking her with their attempted projectile force. They died on her tongue as his blood decorated the snow, dripping scarlet marring the pure ivory color of the freshly fallen flakes, the garbled sound of him choking on his own lifeblood hanging heavily in the atmosphere. The only thing that escaped her now was a piercing scream, shaking as she fell to her knees. 

He collapsed in front of her very eyes, and all she got was a sneer from the man who had wrecked him, words spat to her like venom. "You can go," Ser Jaime growled, face radiant from his victory, the slight dappling of blood from the spray originating from Gavin's throat coloring his face in a line. "Send your mother my regards. Oh, and **so** sorry for your losses. My condolences." 

* * *

They never got Joel's bones back, nor did they receive Gavin's. Both men were hailed heroes in the town of Winterfell, but nobody could celebrate their lives. Not days after, nor weeks. Cali could never sleep; when she closed her eyes, all she could see was the lifeless body of the man she had dedicated her body and soul to. The gaping wound on his neck that wept scarlet tears that could never be replenished stared right back at her, unflinchingly, infiltrating each and every one of her dreams. His flesh ripping open was one of the sounds that echoed in her ears. He couldn't cry out as he fell, only stare at Cali for the few seconds he had before his life was drawn away.  

The family would never be the same. Ray would join the Night's Watch, only to be killed on a scouting mission weeks after his acceptance as a Ranger. Lord Stark was killed in the battle where he attempted to gain back what men had survived, leaving young Chris, a boy of only six, to be the ruling Lord of Winterfell. Cali was married off to a Tyrell, and she left the one place she had grown up in her whole life. But she didn't leave her home. No. Her home had been left to rot in an unnamed forest. She had watched the life leave her home's eyes. Though she married and bore his children, she could never claim to be happy. Her life was ripped apart by Jaime Lannister, and she would forever wear the scars in her mind and on her heart.   

 

> “ ** _When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east. When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. That is when you will return to me.”_**

 

**Author's Note:**

> Checkfuckingmate.


End file.
